


And Where Were You?

by Slacker_Spice



Category: The Shadow (1994)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Community: charloft, Gen, Insomnia, Magic, Moon, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-28
Updated: 2011-01-28
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/156922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slacker_Spice/pseuds/Slacker_Spice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I fell into the moon..."</p>
            </blockquote>





	And Where Were You?

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** And Where Were You?  
>  **Author:** Slacker Spice  
>  **Summary:** "I fell into the moon..." Farley can't sleep.  
>  **Rating:** R for a couple swear words  
>  **Feedback:** Don't expect to get any but if you feel like it...  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own no one. The concept of the Shadow belongs to Walter B. Gibson, but the movie and its related characters belong to David Koepp. The title was taken from Angie Hart's "Blue".  
>  **Notes:** Written in response to the [Character Loft](http://community.livejournal.com/charloft) prompt "celestial bodies". Also written at one in the morning, so I don't expect to get much response from this - did it mostly for fun and to see how it felt as character voice.

I never thought much about the idea of the moon as seductress. Reminded me too much of a romance novel I snarked my way through back in Chicago - weres, destined mates, everything but the furry kitchen sink.

Right now - can't think of much else. Doors locked and curtains drawn, but I can't block him/her/it out: the silent pulse of something unconscious and alien and very much alive, moving across the horizon, blind to everything beneath her.

Seductive, yes, but not in the "do me, you gorgeous hunk of manbeast" sense - hums with power, deep and forever like an endless sea, and just as freely given. Would be so easy to open myself to it and be rid of mind-reading debutante brats and snobby dragon bastards and unwanted gifts and all these pointless useless fucking lines in the sand. One good day and-

I beat my dented pillow, wishing I could bitchslap my id that easily. That way lies madness - and a shard of glass in my frontal lobes. If I'm lucky.

The moon floats just behind the curtains. I feel like she will rap at the window any second, pale and full, her face still as a breezeless lake.

I throw the pillow over my head, blocking out the room, pretending I don't know.

Night's not over _yet_...


End file.
